An Atheist's Laugh 's A Poor Exchange

By Oppression's Woes And Pains! By Your Sons In Servile Chains! We Will Drain Our Dearest Veins, But They Shall Be Free! Lay The Proud Usurpers Low! Tyrants Fall In Every Foe! Liberty's In Every Blow! Let Us Do Or Die!

But Mousie, Thou Art No Thy Lane In Proving Foresight May Be Vain The Best-laid Schemes O' Mice An' Men Gang Aft Agley An' Lea'e Us Nought But Grief An' Pain For Promis'd Joy!

When Matters Are Desperate We Must Put On A Desperate Face.

A Mind That Is Conscious Of Its Integrity Scorns To Say More Than It Means To Perform.

Dweller In Yon Dungeon Dark, Hangman Of Creation, Mark! Who In Widow Weeds Appears, Laden With Unhonoured Years, Noosing With Care A Bursting Purse, Baited With Many A Deadly Curse?